If only Hitler had stuck to art. So posits writer-director Menno Meyjes’ odd excursion into the fictional: a Zelig-like encounter between the pre-Fuhrer as paint-stained wretch (Taylor) and Max (Cusack), a chummy Jewish art dealer who tries to boost his career in devastated post-WWI Munich. It’s a tantalizing premise, but it ultimately feels somewhat pointless, even farcical (here comes that beer-hall speech!), presenting a needlessly revisionist view of a psyche that defies easy explanation.